view.
The village was larger than I’d expected. There were at least a hundred cottages, then a pub, a schoolhouse and a big church with a bell tower. There was no sign of a market square, but the cobbled main street, which sloped quite steeply, was full of women with loaded baskets scurrying in and out of shops. Horses and carts were waiting on both sides of the street so it was clear that the local farmers’ wives came here to shop and, no doubt, also folk from hamlets nearby.
I found the butcher’s shop without any trouble and joined a queue of boisterous women, all calling out to the butcher, a cheerful, big, red-faced man with a ginger beard. He seemed to know every single one of them by name and they kept laughing loudly at his jokes, which came thick and fast. I didn’t understand most of them but the women certainly did and they really seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Nobody paid me much attention, but at last I reached the counter and it was my turn to be served.
‘I’ve called for Mr Gregory’s order,’ I told the butcher.
As soon as I’d spoken, the shop became quiet and the laughter stopped. The butcher reached behind the counter and pulled out a large sack. I could hear people whispering behind me, but even straining my ears, I couldn’t quite catch what they were saying. When I glanced behind, they were looking everywhere but at me. Some were even staring down at the floor.
I gave the butcher the silver coin, checked my change carefully, thanked him and carried the sack out of the shop, swinging it up onto my shoulder when I reached the street. The visit to the greengrocer’s took no time at all. The provisions there were already wrapped so I put the parcel in the sack, which was now starting to feel a bit heavy.
Until then everything had gone well, but as I went into the baker’s, I saw the gang of lads.
There were seven or eight of them sitting on a garden wall. Nothing odd about that, except for the fact that they weren’t speaking to each other – they were all busy staring at me with hungry faces, like a pack of wolves, watching every step I took as I approached the baker’s.
When I came out of the shop they were still there and now, as I began to climb the hill, they started to follow me. Well, although it was too much of a coincidence to think that they’d just decided to go up the same hill, I wasn’t that worried. Six brothers had given me plenty of practice at fighting.
I heard the sound of their boots getting closer and closer. They were catching up with me pretty quickly but maybe that was because I was walking slower and slower. You see, I didn’t want them to think I was scared, and in any case, the sack was heavy and the hill I was climbing was very steep.
They caught up with me about a dozen paces before the stile, just at the point where the lane divided a small wood, the trees crowding in on either side to shut out the morning sun.
‘Open the sack and let’s see what we’ve got,’ said a voice behind me.
It was a loud, deep voice accustomed to telling people what to do. There was a hard edge of danger that told me its owner liked to cause pain and was always looking out for his next victim.
I turned to face him but gripped the sack even tighter, keeping it firmly on my shoulder. The one who’d spoken was the leader of the gang. There was no doubt about that. The rest of them had thin, pinched faces, as if they were in need of a good meal, but he looked as if he’d been eating for all of them. He was at least a head taller than me, with broad shoulders and a neck like a bull’s. His face was broad too, with red cheeks, but his eyes were very small and he didn’t seem to blink at all.
I suppose if he hadn’t been there and hadn’t tried to bully me, I might have relented. After all, some of the boys looked half starved and there were a lot of apples and cakes in the sack. On the other hand, they weren’t mine to give away.
‘This doesn’t belong to me,’ I said. ‘It belongs to Mr Gregory.’
‘His last apprentice didn’t let that bother him,’ said the leader, moving his big face closer to mine. ‘He used to open the sack for us. If you’ve any sense you’ll do the same. If you won’t do it the easy way then it’ll have to be the hard way. But you won’t like that very much and it’ll all come down to the same thing in the end.’
The gang began to move in closer and I could feel someone behind me tugging at the sack. Even then, I wouldn’t let go and I stared back into the piggy eyes of the leader, trying hard not to blink.
At that moment something happened that took us all by surprise. There was a movement in the trees somewhere to my right and we all turned towards it.
There was a dark shape in the shadows, and as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw that it was a girl. She was moving slowly towards us, but her approach was so silent that you could have heard a pin drop and so smooth that she seemed to be floating rather than walking. Then she stopped just on the edge of the tree shadows, as if she didn’t want to step into the sunlight.
‘Why don’t you leave him be?’ she demanded. It seemed like a question but the tone in her voice told me it was a command.
‘What’s it to you?’ asked the leader of the gang, jutting his chin forwards and bunching his fists.
‘Ain’t me you need to worry about,’ she answered from the shadows. ‘Lizzie’s back, and if you don’t do what I say, it’s her you’ll answer to.’
‘Lizzie?’ asked the lad, taking a step backwards.
‘Bony Lizzie. She’s my aunt. Don’t tell me you ain’t heard of her…’
Have you ever felt time slow so much that it almost appears to stop? Ever listened to a clock when the next tick seems to take for ever to follow the last tock? Well, it was just like that until, very suddenly, the girl hissed loudly through her clenched teeth. Then she spoke again.
‘Go on,’ she said. ‘Be off with you! Be gone, be quick or be dead!’
The effect on the gang was immediate. I glimpsed the expression on some of their faces and saw that they weren’t just afraid. They were terrified and close to panic. Their leader turned on his heels and immediately fled down the hill with the others close behind him.
I didn’t know why they were so scared but I felt like running too. The girl was staring at me with wide eyes and I didn’t feel able to control my limbs properly. I felt like a mouse paralysed by the stare of a stoat about to pounce at any moment.
I forced my left foot to move and slowly turned my body towards the trees to follow the direction my nose was pointing, but I was still gripping the Spook’s sack. Whoever she was, I still wasn’t going to give it up.
‘Ain’t you going to run as well?’ she asked me.
I shook my head but my mouth was very dry and I couldn’t trust myself to try and speak. I knew the words would come out wrong.
She was probably about my own age – if anything slightly younger. Her face was nice enough, for she had large brown eyes, high cheekbones and long black hair. She wore a black dress tied tightly at the waist with a piece of white string. But as I took all this in, I suddenly noticed something that troubled me.
The girl was wearing pointy shoes, and immediately I remembered the Spook’s warning. But I stood my ground, determined not to run like the others.
‘Ain’t you going to thank me?’ she asked. ‘Be nice to get some thanks.’
‘Thanks,’ I said lamely, just managing to get the word out first time.
‘Well, that’s a start,’ she said. ‘But to thank me properly, you need to give me something, don’t you? A cake and an apple will do for now. It ain’t much to ask. There’s plenty in the sack and Old Gregory won’t notice, and if he does, he won’t say anything.’
I was shocked to hear her call the Spook ‘Old Gregory’. I knew he wouldn’t like being called that and it told me two things. Firstly, the girl had little respect for him, and secondly, she wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. Back where I came from, most people shivered even at the thought that the Spook might be in the neighbourhood.
‘I’m sorry.’ I said, ‘but I can’t do that. They’re not mine to give.’
She glared at me hard then and didn’t speak for a long time. I thought at one point that she was going to hiss at me through her teeth. I stared back at her, trying not to blink, until at last a faint smile lit up her face and she spoke again.
‘Then I’ll have to settle for a promise.’
‘A promise?’ I asked, wondering what she meant.
‘A promise to help me just as I helped you. I don’t need any help right now, but perhaps one day I might.’
‘That’s fine,’ I told her. ‘If you ever need any help in the future then just ask.’
‘What’s your name?’ she asked, giving me a really broad smile.
